Cloaked
by Belen09
Summary: The aliens needed his help in repairing the 'human devices' . . .


Cloaked

Belen09

Part of Deception Series – this has a slash element to it . . .

The aliens had made a tactical error, and had left various broken-down devices for him to repair – the rationale being that the old admiral must know the human devices, and be able to make them function again . . . Obviously they were not able to acquire more equipment, so that the proper maintenance would be of importance. This need he would use to his advantage.

Malcolm Reed smiled, though he didn't let the satisfaction extend to his face; he'd spent years cultivating a carefully neutral expression. It wouldn't be expedient to let people who didn't have your best interest at heart, know of either your dissatisfaction or pleasure. It keep people guessing and 'on their toes' as to your true feelings about things.

(It had stood him in good stead when that blithering idiot ex-husband of Maddy's taped him while he was watching an old video of Trip after his death. The man had no idea how he would have wanted to ram that camera down his throat. Instead he only said, "Good-bye Maddy. I really must be going." And he didn't speak one more civil or uncivil word to the fool. No matter. Malcolm was positively sure that Trip would deal with the situation once the man had 'crossed over.')

So he humored the aliens and made a great show of examining the devices . . . humming to himself as he tinkered with the items . . . just as he thought . . . old communicators, old scanners, even an old phase pistol (of course missing its power cell). Idly Malcolm wondered where the energy pack was being held, how he would have loved to get his hands on that 'particular' piece of equipment. No matter . . . what he had in mind didn't require much in the way of power, and ironically he was one of the few humans who could take advantage of the situation.

The aliens just thought he was an old admiral – some kind of administrator – perhaps at one time an 'engineer' like Trip – no, not like Trip – his late husband was 'one of a kind' . . . however it 'wouldn't do' to 'fess up' that that he, himself, had been one of the one of the most inventive weapons' designers that Starfleet had ever known. Even the Vulcans 'had raised their eyebrows' when they saw precisely the power and sophistication of his weapon arrays – and these aliens were blessedly ignorant of his three doctorates, one in weapon design, and two in physics . . . maybe they thought he'd gotten his Nobel Prize for Peace . . . that thought did make a smirk come to his face, just briefly.

He pulled the needed components from the devices, and using a special fusing mechanism that that the aliens were kind enough to give him to repair the broken equipment, Malcolm quickly built something that he had designed years before, but had never really had the time to test, as it was strictly theoretical and had some questionable side effects – beggars can't be choosers, however – and the old Starfleet officer activated his invention.

The noise level was acceptable, so he decided on an immediate plan of action, and thought that the best time to escape was now, so he strolled past the guards and out of the building . . . Reed headed for the 'woods' and was transiting a 'swampy' area, when a pain suddenly enveloped his chest, and he fell forward . . . into the arms of his husband Trip, who cushioned him and hugged him at the same time.

Malcolm felt like the years had fallen away, and he was overjoyed to see his love again, and would have never even thought about his past concerns, except that . . . "Love, I've caused a 'bit of a bother'!" Trip Tucker only smiled and said, "Well, that's what you get for ignoring 'security protocols', darlin'! Have I got places to show you!" And they went off to spend the rest of eternity together . . .

The nursing facility really didn't want to inform anyone – but they did get some of their funding from the government, so that when retired Admiral Malcolm Reed 'vanished' from the premises, a couple of Starfleet officers arrived to take statements and speak with the local authorities.

When the two saw the workbench where the retired admiral had been working on 'the broken devices', they sighed . . . As the former head of Section 31, the Englishman was perfectly capable of building almost anything 'by scratch' . . . and they had 'thought' that he was not allowed access to any machinery of any kind.

His body was found just over a mile away in a swamp – the device he had built was in pieces, as he had fallen on it, and besides it was thoroughly corroded by the brackish water, so much so that no one was able to figure out what he did to make himself vanish . . . some things are better left unknown to history.


End file.
